Somewhere in Africa

46. Detective

Kesha's POV

"Kesha, where were you on the 9th of November?" Inspector sheriff asked. He sat in papa's waiting room holding a mini book and pen while I sat in front of him. He was a middle age man with a foreign accent.

"With my boy_, um with a friend," I answered. It was pretty obvious I was the suspect here. Papa was murdered.

It still feels surreal and I didn't know how to react, the thought that someone in my family is capable of murder scared the shit out of me. My palms were wet as I tried to keep my calm. I was the last to be questioned in this room and the atmosphere out there felt like everyone had mentioned my name in here.

"Good, you got an alibi." He nodded studying me.

"Kesha you 19 right?" He asked.

"Yes"

"And a dropout." He mentioned.

"Like 50% of other kids," I said. That just came out, I wasn't even sure. He looked at me and I tried to be bold. I wasn't stupid, I knew these people don't care about who committed the crime, they only needed a suspect to blame and he wasn't getting that from me.

"You drink, you smoke, you have a criminal record of stealing, certainly these are enough reasons to be in a bad relationship with your dad." He leaned closer to the table his eyes piercing through mine.

"Look, I did not kill him okay? I'm not a murderer. And besides, I haven't been living here for the past two weeks now."

"Um interesting, why haven't you been living here?" He asked.

"I was...papa kicked us out," I answered. fuck!! Now it dawns on me. It's definitely going to look like I killed him. Wow!

"Must be so hard. This man manipulated your mother into believing he loved her and then got all her wealth. Then he married other women, treasuring your half-siblings and abandoning you and your Sisters. Your mother past away and a week later he drove you out." Okay, sir. We get it, your accent is nice.

"How old are you inspector sheriff?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" He asked. I smirk leaning closer to him while making eye contact.

"Your age, sir?" I sounded flirtatious but I didn't care. If you intimidate me in any way hell I will do the same.

"Ah, I get what you are trying to do miss Kesha but be rest assured it won't work on me..."

"There," I interrupted him while smirking.
"Exactly inspector, and just like you I also get what you are trying to do, and be rest assured it won't work on me." I spat. He nodded smiling as he looked at me.

"Can I get the name of your alibi miss Kesha?" He asked and I gave him Alex's full contact info.

"Until we meet again, that will be all miss Kesha." He handed me his card,
"please, feel free to call this number if you can think of anything that'll help this case." He got up lazily from the chair and walked towards the door.

"Inspector," I called before he opened the door. He tilt his head so he could see me.

"I hated papa but more than anyone I needed him alive. Alive so I can prove to him what a failure he really was. So how about you do your fucking job and find the real culprit instead of finding someone to blame." I said.

"We will surely meet again." He smiled and walked out.

I returned to the living room watching people come and go. Papa's death wasn't really sad. The great Malik died and not a single member of his entire family dropped a tear. I mean no one. His wife Auntie Binta was just making noise and blowing snort in her handkerchief. Rolling my eyes I looked away from her pretense. Guests have been coming and leaving for days now sympathizing with us and leaving envelopes behind. Most of the attention was focused on auntie Binta, Sammy, and Aisha.